Chapter 1520: Exhausting the People and Draining the Treasury

Mount Tai's fame among the world's mountains has always been great—as the pillar holding up the sky of the Qi-Lu lands, and because of the special significance that has been attached to this mountain, which is not actually all that tall or steep, since ancient times.

Even as the foremost of the Five Sacred Peaks, the famed Dai Zong had lain dormant for many years. Over the past twenty-odd years, though no lack of travelers and literati had climbed its heights to gaze afar, they were but passersby.

Around Mount Tai, there were some villages that dwelled, relying on the forests and mountains, and guarding them as well. However, both within and without the mountains, the settlements were scattered and sparse—even for the government to collect taxes, some places required running over a hundred li, and for transmitting government orders as well.

It was not until the tenth year of Kaibao, after Prefectural Administrator Zhang Qixian assumed his post, that—driven by the special mission weighing on his shoulders—his gaze first fell upon the Mount Tai region.

He personally walked the entire circuit, observed its defects, and then submitted a memorial requesting the establishment of a new administrative district on the sunny side of Mount Tai, encompassing several dozen surrounding villages within it. Its rank was not high—merely a town—named Daiyue Town, directly subordinate to Yanzhou Prefecture.

Over the past twenty-odd years, the Great Han's trend of "urbanization" had advanced in great strides. On the foundation of the former military-governor garrison towns, countless market towns had been established under the jurisdiction of prefectures and counties—this was roughly the change brought by socioeconomic development.

These town-level governments were not merely reflected in administrative divisions; more prominent was the economic attribute they embodied. Of course, the newly established Daiyue Town clearly carried a heavier political significance—or rather, it was a measure Zhang Qixian had taken to accomplish a political task.

Over the past year, apart from nearly half a year spent on disaster relief and post-disaster reconstruction, the entire Yanzhou Prefecture's work focus—from Prefectural Administrator Zhang Qixian on down—had been placed on the governance of the Mount Tai region.

Of course, administrative reorganization accounted for only a small part; the most important thing was that the Yanzhou government had given Mount Tai a "beautification."

In the autumn and winter of the tenth year of Kaibao, while the disaster-stricken prefectures and counties of Henan and Hebei were busy with aftermath, relief, and reconstruction, neighboring Yanzhou was equally bustling with activity—busy opening mountains and building roads, piling earth and constructing altars. In short, large-scale construction was underway.

Within three to four months, Yanzhou Prefecture conscripted over seven thousand civilian laborers for engineering construction. For Yanzhou Prefecture, a conscription of labor on this scale was already a major mobilization—it could even be said with certainty that it delayed normal livelihood construction, and even agricultural work.

But some things cannot be viewed solely from the perspective of economic and livelihood value. When politics takes priority, everything else must yield, and in this imperial society, imperial power looms even greater than heaven.

The long-neglected, old, narrow mountain paths of Mount Tai were expanded on a large scale, neatly paved with stone steps, opening up a road to heaven leading straight to the summit of Dai.

At the summit, a Dengfeng Altar was built—nine zhang wide, five chi tall, with steps on all four sides. At the same time, a stone stele nine chi tall and five chi wide was crafted—though in propaganda it was claimed to be a naturally unearthed original stone—its purpose being to record the series of Emperor Liu's magnificent achievements.

At the foot of the mountain, backed by the Wen River and facing Mount Tai, in the central position, a Fengsi Altar was built, constructed of five-colored earth. On Liangfu Mountain, which faced Mount Tai across the Wen River, a mountain path was likewise opened, and a Jiangchan Altar was built at its summit.

At the same time, the roads from Daiyue Town to Mount Tai and Liangfu were also repaired, with quality standards meeting—even exceeding—those of the straight imperial highways. Uniform white stone slabs, smooth and straight, and since their completion, road patrol officers were stationed along the way, forbidding any person, vehicle, or livestock from treading upon them.

These several key structures covered nearly the entire concrete process of the Son of Heaven's Fengshan sacrifices. It could be said without hesitation that this was almost a hodgepodge—whether in engineering preparation or in the subsequently formulated ceremonial procedures, they drew heavily on predecessors. One could find too many measures taken by emperors of past dynasties in their Fengshan rites; much of it was copied outright.

But what stood out was grandeur and comprehensiveness, with the will of Chancellor Zhao Pu and the Fengshan preparation ceremonial mission he led being the main thread running through it all. In Zhao Pu's words, Emperor Liu's achievements had already far surpassed all previous emperors, so the Fengshan ceremony should likewise cover everything comprehensively.

Although Emperor Liu formally issued the edict for the Fengshan sacrifices at the great court assembly in Chongyuan Hall in the eleventh year of Kaibao, the concrete work had long since been set in motion from all directions.

Whether it was the auspicious omens emerging across the realm in the winter of the tenth year of Kaibao, the tens of thousands of people in the Eastern Capital petitioning beneath the imperial city walls for the Fengshan sacrifices, or officials from across the realm jointly submitting memorials urging the same.

What was originally a ceremony of great political significance, after this wave of momentum-building, gained an additional layer of sanctity, and also placed enormous pressure on the officials at every level responsible for the matter.

In Yanzhou, Zhang Qixian displayed an attitude of demanding perfection, handling everything personally—even the position of a single tree along the imperial road had to be carefully compared and verified.

Initially, there had been plans to specially construct a new road from Daiyue Town to the prefectural seat, but after weighing the scale and construction costs, the plan was abandoned.

After all, a road of over one hundred and twenty li—even setting aside the obstacle of the Wen River—was not a project that could be accomplished by Yanzhou Prefecture alone, especially under time constraints.

All in all, Yanzhou Prefecture had done its utmost in preparations for the Fengshan sacrifices, holding nothing back—the prefectural treasuries and granaries were emptied. To put it simply, it could only be described as exhausting the people and draining the treasury.

Of course, behind this, it naturally could not rely solely on Yanzhou Prefecture's own strength—that would be unrealistic, unless one recklessly squeezed the people's labor without regard, which would run contrary to the Great Han's governing philosophy.

The key was that the court, led by Zhao Pu, strongly supported the work of Yanzhou Prefecture, especially in terms of funds, grain, and various construction resources.

Over the past year, the Finance Commission had complained bitterly more than once—both in court deliberations and before Emperor Liu—about fiscal straits. But for the projects underway in Yanzhou Prefecture, over a million strings of cash were allocated in a single stroke, without any discount.

Money, after all, must be spent where it counts. Clearly, for the chancellors of the Finance Commission, the Fengshan sacrifices were a matter of utmost importance—a politically correct affair that brooked no doubt or negligence.

Therefore, though it was likewise exhausting the people and draining the treasury, at least among the many projects carried out within Yanzhou Prefecture, no popular resentment was aroused. The main reason was that, unlike the corvée and military service burdens of ordinary times, this time labor was rewarded—rations, clothing, and tools were all provided by the government, and the conscripted laborers only needed to provide their most valuable labor, with each person receiving rewards in cash, grain, and reduced service periods based on their work output.

According to the court's directives and Yanzhou Prefecture's interpretation, the Fengshan ceremony was a great affair of His Majesty and the court, in which the Emperor's achievements, the court's strength, and the nation's prosperity were to be displayed. It must not be achieved by oppressing the people; on the contrary, the process should demonstrate compliance with heaven and kindness to the people, showing grace bestowed upon them.

With over a million strings of cash and various resources poured in, for the local officials and people of Yanzhou, it could indeed be counted as a blessing.

And during the winter of the tenth year of Kaibao, Yanzhou Prefecture had clearly become the most vibrant locale among the Central Plains' prefectural seats. Evidently, due to the influence of the Fengshan sacrifices, it had driven local economic development—even if only temporarily.

Among the many projects the Great Han had undertaken in the past, even key projects like river works, imperial highways, and the reconstruction of the two capitals could hardly be described as spotless—otherwise, so many corruption scandals would not have erupted later.

But the various projects carried out within Yanzhou Prefecture could be described as clear and transparent—besides Zhang Qixian's almost pathological supervision and implementation, it was also due to the gravity of the matter.

With this kind of political task, doing it well was a merit, doing it poorly was a crime—even objective factors could hardly atone for the fault, and if something went wrong due to human factors, it would cost lives.

It was not until the fifteenth day of the second month of the eleventh year of Kaibao that, after rendezvousing with the Empress, Crown Prince, imperial clansmen, high ministers, and the hundred officials who had come east from Luoyang, the imperial procession formally departed from Kaifeng, heading east toward Yanzhou, with Mount Tai as the destination, to perform the Fengshan sacrifices.

The very same matter, in the tenth year of Kaibao, would have been untimely; by the eleventh year of Kaibao, it was what the people's hearts desired and what the multitudes supported.